To Follow You
by shadoewhunter
Summary: Kuchiki Byakuya lives a life of order and discipline. He will never falter, never lose sight of his duty. He will never run away, like Shihouin Yoruichi did, because he no longer has someone to follow.


Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to it's rightful owners, blah blah, insert standard disclaimer here.

Dedicated to Radu/Pie of CFUD. (come for the IC crack, stay for the OOC love)

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**To Follow You**

Byakuya seldom wasted time. His days were filled with work, shuffling work, work with no end. His nights were spent in either meditation or practice, words, kidou, silently walking through the steps of moves, one two three. And in everything he did, every step he took, there was a precision, a calculation that every move and word was made to be exactly what it should and not the slightest open to misinterpretation.

He measured his words, his actions, the way the parted his hair in the morning, the three times he would pass his scarf over his uniform, the grains of rice he chose to pick up on his ivory chopsticks. He measured the glances he gave Renji when the lieutenant would come bursting into his office like a wild beast, loud, obnoxious, without regard to the propriety of place or time. He measured the echoes of his footsteps as he stepped down the hallways of Soul Society, the paths he chose to take and the paths he avoided.

Once Shunsui had asked him why he never took the side passage from the Kuchiki estates to the main Seritei, that the view was fantastic, the sakura blossoms forever blowing their scent and petals uncaringly into the wind. He had measured what he chose not to say then, not wasting breath to explain how he'd measured his wounded pride, his buried sentiments of long ago. He would not waste time thinking, pondering, _reminiscing_ those who had left, had abandoned duty, had gone and failed to return. He refused to be reminded of shadowed eyes and knowing smiles.

Byakuya refused to ever allow anyone to accuse him of failing his duty, of being tempted to take an easy way out. People accused him of being stubborn, apathetic, uncaring, cold; none of this mattered to him. Nothing would get in the way of his measuring of duty, of fulfilling his role and responsibility. He was the head of the Kuchiki. He was the heir to a house of nobility, old blood and old honor.

So when the knowing smile, the flashing gold eyes returned, when whispered goodbyes provoked him to run, he found himself losing his measurements, losing his ability to stay in control.

"_Always running to slow, aren't you Byaku-bo? You can't run fast if you don't know where you're going."_ She'd said from the shadows before disappearing, smirk on her face.

What did _she_ know about honor, about duty. All that she knew was to run away, he thought. And yet he was the one running, not physically because even in his flustered state he would not allow himself to lose that dignity, but running away mentally. Running away from the secured walls, the ornate decorations, the clean, neat, perfectly lined tatami mats in his room. Running with nowhere in mind, with nowhere to escape the calculations, the measurements, the words haunting his memories.

He stopped suddenly, his breath catching more in frustration than actual fatigue.

"_F-follow you?" He'd asked her, eyes widened by surprise. She'd smile, the soft polite smile, her eyes lowered but hinting at something secretive. He'd starred at her, at the way her hair fell, the way her eyes peeked downwards, waiting for his answer. _

_And he'd smiled, held out a hand to grasp hers tentatively, whispering into her hair. _

"_I'll follow you anywhere. As long as you let me, Hisana."_

But you didn't. Byakuya thought as he starred up at the night sky. And nothing else mattered anymore. His calculations, his measurements, they were all to fill a space that refused to be satisfied, a hole inside of him that could never close properly. It had been that moment, kneeling at a grave, weeping without tears for a wife he could not embrace, a friend he could not follow, a hand he would never again hold. It had been then that he'd finally understood, finally realized why Shihouin Yoruichi had chosen to leave, why she'd abandoned everything, forsaken her duty, her honor, her family, her titles, abandoned them all to follow a man with no future. And it was that understanding, that gnawing emptiness that he could not do the same, that drove him to run now, standing underneath trees whispering with the voices of the wind. Trees framed in petals, bittersweet sakura petals, so beautiful and tragic in their death, floating from the branch away into the night. Trees under which he'd met her the first time, shy eyes and a blush turning her face as pink as the petals that were scattered across the passageway.

He sat down hard on the ground, leaning against the nearest tree, ignoring the careless way his scarf had fallen, that he still needed to submit reports, to make dutiful calls to minor houses, that there was still work to be done. There was always work to be done.

Starring out into the darkened copse of trees, he smiled, a bitter smile filled with remorse. He would never abandon his duty, never throw everything down to run away from his responsibilities. He no longer had any reason to. His reason to live, his reason to smile, his reason to follow a road without calculations, without measurements, without precision had died nearly fifty years ago.

"_I don't know whether to love you for having given me everything, Hisana…or to hate you for taking it all away…"_


End file.
